


Reverie

by Estellos



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Female My Unit | Byleth, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Porn With Plot, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Time Skip, Pre-Time Skip, Rough Oral Sex, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:35:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24437551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Estellos/pseuds/Estellos
Summary: Dimitri lusts after the professor in his school years, tormented by her determination and unparalleled beauty each day. After five years of near solitude, Byleth appears in the broken halls where she had left him. When she returns from sleep, eyes still afflicted with the same effect over him, Dimitri's composure and restraint shatters as he finally claims her for his own.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Dedue Molinaro, Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Petra Macneary, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth, Dorothea Arnault/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Mercedes von Martritz/Ignatz Victor
Comments: 54
Kudos: 221





	1. Day's Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri loves big titty goth girlfriends and no one can convince me otherwise.

"I wanted to hide my passion."

— Sulpicia

He imagined her sharpening a wet blade in the undergrowth of a forest. Leaves nettled with thorns above her pale skin, Byleth respired atop a seat of large tree roots there, fingers meticulously striking a whetstone across the bloodied sword in hand.

Dimitri assumed it was within her nature to be resigned in this manner. The work of a mercenary surely must have created her stoic demeanor, and the young prince wondered if thoughts of guilt or shame visited Byleth for all her vices. How many throats had she cut with a blade?

Byleth's calm temperament suggested that she had grown detached to the idea of death. She was always unfrazzled in a way, eyes hazy and diluted with cold colors. It was rather discourteous to create assumptions about the professor, yet Dimitri soon found himself conceiving such daydreams about her often.

Soon every detail seized his notice, and Dimitri's eyes periodically followed her footsteps throughout the monastery's courtyard. He particularly favored the shade of the trees where she was known to splay out her robe on many occasions.

During one particular morning, he noticed her lace tights strewn alongside her legs again. They had become apparent even, especially as she advanced towards the center of the room, thighs striding with self-possession. The intricate designs appealed to him, dark like his favorite color, he could admit that they suited Byleth. Although, he would have marveled at the sight of her in something a noble would brandish. A sable dress fashioned with pearls appeared in his mind. It would do nicely alongside black lace.

She was presenting another lesson on the proper techniques for axe-wielding, a subject that Dimitri did not expressly care to know. Nevertheless, Dimitri listened with fervor, dipping his quill in another bath of ink. He tapped his heel on the floor every so often, captured by Byleth's soft features. She was magnificent.

"Professor." The young prince cleared his throat quite abruptly. Dimitri strung his shoulders back with pride, flaxen hair shaping his face handsomely. He swore his throat constricted in aperture when she turned, yet he was determined to meet those midnight blue eyes altogether.

"Yes, Dimitri?" His name fluttered off her lips like divinity. His face grew hot, cheeks dusted a faint pink.

He blinked.

"I — I apologize, but I forgot what I was going to say."

He retired to the training grounds that evening, lashing out his frustration with great persistence. Sylvain had whistled at Dimitri in the later hours of the morning, ridiculing him over his reaction in the lecture before, laughing when the prince's brows twitched with annoyance. Dimitri's classmates would not allow his blatant fondness for the professor to go unwitnessed. Rather, it was apparent that they knew of his long-standing love. They simply never entitled Dimitri with the dignity of silence on the matter. He struck another blow at the wooden mannequin before him, splitting a crack in its hollow torso.

He respired, twirling the spear in hand gracefully, then settled on a stool to inspect the weapon. Dimitri was so particular. He fiddled with his armor in the midst of sparring. He picked at his gloves and its delicate strings. He sent away plates for fine adjustment to the blacksmith. Nothing ever seemed in order, and Dimitri made it habit to unfasten his cape in exhaustion when he returned to his bedchamber each night. He fretted too much, some would say.

This seemed the case with his lances as well, all deftly honed until each whetstone wore down to a pebble, but the tips never sharp enough for the prince. Weapon upkeep, he called it. It was tedious work, but Dimitri would enjoy the effort. The lance he possessed in his hand would recover from his unabashed strikes in periods of adjustment. Dimitri gripped the handle tighter. Sweat began to drip down his neck.

The girls of the academy adored the famous sight. The young prince was handsome, chivalrous, and destined for the throne. How each savored the idea of becoming the next Queen of Faerghus.

Dimitri had always been well aware of his status, not only as a crest bearer, but as the heir to a holy kingdom. Needless to say, many attempted to gain his admiration. Love notes would transpire in his palms, owls gracing the prince with parchment in their beaks midday. These letters would compliment his talent, his image, his goodness. Dimitri, however, was never palatable to the displays of coquettish girls.

He was more interested in older women after all.

Nevertheless, he wasn't rude to his admirers. Many girls mistook his benevolent disposition as encouragement. Their advances were always met with a smile, Dimitri unable to reject them properly. Polite excuses did not discourage the girls, and they soon conspired to shadow him in the training grounds of all places. He would grimace at his work, beads of sweat decorating his chin before glancing up to hear a barrage of giggles. Today was no different.

"Not this again." Felix's gruff voice boomed through the empty space. His rapier was fastened at his hip, no doubt yearning to slash at the assembly of gawking girls before him. He scoffed derisively. Dimitri shifted his notice to the silhouette behind the noble. Byleth's plate flashed a patch of sunlight in his eyes, illuminating his irises like sapphire stones. Dimitri's mouth twitched, lips suddenly parched, fingers beginning to tremble.

"Hello, Dimitri." She said. Dimitri sat upright, sweeping his eyes across her face.

"Good afternoon, professor." He smiled. His heart flapped against his chest, scuffling to be free.

Felix trained his sight on the girls that obstructed the way. They leaned against a dinky sword rack. He treaded towards them with heavy steps, huffing and puffing through it all, then reached behind one of their necks. Her earring swayed with the motion. The girl squealed, the sound of a sliding blade rippling against her head as he picked a sword. It nearly brushed her skin in the process. He handled it with ease, tapping the cold steel under the girl's chin, his jaw clenched taut.

"Get out." He snarled, and the girls obeyed in terror. Felix twisted the sword. It was light enough for the professor. His eyes flew to Dimitri, watching dutifully as the prince tumbled over his words, allowing him a moment alone with her. Felix was in a generous mood today, and he congratulated himself for it. He overturned the blade once more, examining its craftsmanship.

"Professor!" He called. Byleth glanced in his direction, her expression gentle but fleeting. Felix tossed her the sword.

"Are you partaking in a match?" Dimitri spoke up, still as captivated by Byleth's reflexes the first time he fought alongside her in battle. She swayed the sword in hand. She looked like a dancer, calm and elegant.

"No, I just desired some time away from my work." She responded. She twirled it anew, gazing at its silver sheen in wonderment. Dimitri couldn't move his eyes away from her.

"Actually, his highness hasn't sparred with someone in a couple of days." Felix crossed his arms. A smile seldom graced his lips, but he allowed his mouth to quirk a bit at the sight of Dimitri's face. How he loved to torment him. "Think he's out of practice."

Dimitri's eyes shot daggers of betrayal at the suggestion. Felix swallowed back a wolfish grin before it devoured his composure. He chuckled at the prince's mortification, then turned away to busy himself with the armory. Dimitri decided then to share a few disgruntled words with his classmate later. It would serve the entire house to listen in reality. There was not a single member who discouraged Dimitri's unrequited feelings, and there was not one who omitted themselves from the subject.

"Really? It would benefit you to sharpen your skills as much as your sword. Would you like to try your hand with me?" Byleth asked. She rested the steel body on the back of her neck. Dimitri found the ordeal exceedingly unfair. He couldn't read her tone, not that he did in any other circumstance.

"I — Well, of course." It was impossible to reject her advice. He stood, readying himself for the offensive. Dimitri could not assail upon Byleth comfortably. Byleth took notice of this, deciding that she determined the start of the match. She rushed towards him, the hilt of her sword wrapped tightly in her palm.

They began to strike at one another. He reserved his strength, but she leapt forth unrestrained. She had a unique fighting method, sweeping her feet to match his in a rhythmic trance. She hoped to overwhelm him, confuse him in a dance of brawn. Dimitri shuddered at her quick jabs. She wasn't even using her crest this time. Byleth met his lance with unrelenting effort, ramming against the handle with her blade. Dimitri grunted in shock and staggered against the impact.

"Keep your shoulders up, Dimitri." She said in between breaths. Dimitri was too intent on pleasing her, hiking his elbow to the height of his shoulders, winding his arms back with as much force as he could muster. He parried her strikes with ease. The clatter of steel resonated throughout the hall.

She pivoted on her heel, nearly stepping on his foot in the process, and swung the sword back against her hips. Flushed with adrenaline, Dimitri took the opportunity to cut through the opening, and swung his lance without caution. The tip of the spear made contact. A deep cut slashed through her thigh, breaking the pattern of lace, and forcing Byleth to cry out at the sharp sting.

"Professor Byleth!" Dimitri's voice shattered as he saw the first sign of blood spill onto the ground. Byleth collapsed to her knees, her legs jutting out in order to gain a semblance of balance. The gash on her thigh was sizable from his view, a vicious laceration that caused Dimitri to panic upon sight. He thrust down his lance and hurried to her side. She curled her fingers into a tense fist, tongue compressed against the pain.

"Felix, hurry and get Mercedes." He said, his breath escaping him. Felix dashed away on command. Mercedes could be anywhere within the academy. It would be a challenge alone to locate her. Dimitri attempted to remain collected meanwhile, positioning a glove in between his teeth.

He removed the material swiftly enough. Byleth grimaced through the twinges in her skin as they shot up through her chest. Dimitri pressed his hand against her cheek without thought, situating his other underneath Byleth's injured thigh.

He noticed the texture of her skin, his fingers practically melting into its velvet touch through the glove. He lifted her leg with sensitivity, listening to her delicate moans as she twitched in another bout of discomfort. He leaned in between her thighs to better level himself, her ankle supported by his back. She rasped at the sensation of his fingers, unprepared to discern them sinking into her flesh with such enthusiasm. Dimitri regained himself, drawing back his gloved hand.

"I am so — Professor, please forgive me. I was too reckless." He said. Byleth breathed, intaking a considerable gulp of air.

"No. I don't want you to apologize. It's nothing I've not handled." She sighed.

"I have a salve that will soothe your skin. I've no doubt that Mercedes will treat the wound, but it may still feel tender."

"Bring it to my room later if you're not occupied. I would appreciate that." Byleth smiled, eyes creased in a shower of golden light. For a moment in time linked solely between the two, Dimitri felt at peace, almost tranquil with the world at large as he sat and reflected. After witnessing her soft expression for the second time, Dimitri was wholly undone by the professor. It was euphoric. He moved his fingers to her lips, senseless and dazed, and did the unthinkable.

"Professor, please allow me this." He pleaded. He brought his lips to her own in a fit of passion. His hand clenched over her fingers on the ground. Her lips were criminally sweet, edges wet and tender against his own. Byleth was astonished.

She whimpered in confusion, but his lips only muffled the noise. Byleth was melting, her tongue peaking into his mouth as she relaxed in his grip, the scent of chamomile reaching her nostrils. Dimitri pushed harder. He drove his tongue against hers as she leaned away.

His hand swept back her tresses, holding her head in place as he continued to envelop her mouth. She moaned helplessly, prompting him to bend towards her even more, allowing her no space to collect her thoughts. He stroked their tongues together again before she wrenched away entirely. Byleth looked to him with an intensity that Dimitri could not come to understand. She was the object of his desire. She returned his favor. The simplicity was evident to the prince, but Byleth distanced herself.

"Oh, Dimitri." Her eyes held pools of sorrow. "We cannot do this again." She whispered.

Day was breaking. Lambency no longer dominated the sky, and Dimitri took personal offense to the light's disappearance. He composed himself, nodded, then aided Byleth in standing. She brushed her coat, one hand still caught in Dimitri's cherished grasp. She looked at him with a heavy heart.

Byleth slowly reached for his face, but he withdrew from her touch without a word, relinquishing his hold altogether. The prince was saddened by her reaction — despite its sensibility. Byleth simply affirmed that Dimitri was her student. There were damning consequences, and she needed to be reminded of the fact. A pretty face wouldn't change anything. He had come of age recently, but that didn't matter when it came to her position.

"Sleep well, professor." Dimitri muttered, compelling a wretched smile to grace his lips. Byleth remained stoic, not knowing what words would comfort him.

Dimitri departed to his chamber. He received word of Mercedes finding Byleth, but inquired Dedue to deliver the salve he had promised earlier for extra precaution. Dimitri was incredulous, profoundly humiliated by his own compulsivity. He thumped his head back against the wall, constricted by the small expanse of the room, then stripped to his night clothes. There he settled into the bed linen, eyes waning in sleep.

‡

He allowed depravity to overtake him, sordid thoughts reawakening in the dead of night. Dimitri slicked back his blond strands, now dampened by the humidity of the rains, and threw off his bedsheets as he rose in discontent. The heat was overtaking him, and he knew that it could not be blamed on the torrid season of summer alone. He wanted something. Anything. He needed to feel repose.

These lecherous emotions of his — he found utterly sickening. They poisoned his water, distracted him in combat, _singed_ into his very soul like a relic. His body was set aflame within, and the only person that could be the cause was oblivious to it. Perhaps she was indifferent to the quivering prince that admired her so. He couldn't know her true feelings. She was as ever a mystery now as when he met her on the road.

His fingers slipped down, unlacing his breeches in frenzy. He was burning. He was hot to the touch, feverish with desire for the steel-haired professor that would elude him in his sleep. At least he had possession over his thoughts. He could unbutton her long coat, support her weight as she displaced her boots, he would be able to mount himself on her like an animal in the sanctity of his mind. He chuckled.

Dimitri knew that what he was doing was crude, slanderous to her very name. Yet, would he regain some solace in doing so? Peace of mind? Did he prefer to burn with desire or to settle for an act of indecency? He huffed out a breath that weighed him down. An air of indiscretion passed.

He slipped his cock from its confines, the mushroom head pink and soft. He clasped its entirety like the handle of a long lance. It began to harden when a glimmer of her rosy mouth came to view. He started to touch it tenderly, mimicking what the professor might do herself if she would ever come to reciprocate the deed. It was not likely, he thought. In fact, it was unfeasible, but Dimitri could not come to admit this aloud.

Instead, he continued to roll his thumb across its length, picturing those hands that held a blade with tenacity and force. He was so unsure, his body temperature dipping and soaring through the act, cold chills beginning to envelop him.

It was this apprehensiveness that kept him back, soothed the darkness that was growing inside of him. He wanted to contain it, to capture it in chains and throw it in a cell, to remain in the professor's kind graces for all of eternity. She couldn't know what atrocious past he carried within, and so Dimitri shut his eyes, his timid approach discarded. It would be just once, and Dimitri would never again soil her pride, he promised himself this.

"Byleth." He hissed. The sight was obscene. His thighs were completely spread. Breath deep within, Dimitri exhaled the name with zeal, throwing his head back on the bedframe as another spell of lust overwhelmed him.

He wrung his hands around his cock again, twisting his skin in long strokes in order to appease his hunger for her tight frame. How he longed to feel her, bodies entwined in utter rapture, her wetness clouding his rationality. The emotion was so foreign to him. Dimitri, who had never laid with a woman in his life, duly tried to imagine the texture of her pussy. He hit a chord there, grunted, then expelled another rasp.

"Fuck." He breathed. His eyes squeezed tighter still, fingers stretching his cock to his abdomen. She was so fair, her breasts visibly huge under the black plate, and her ass incredible. Her name resonated in his mind, and he soon imagined bending her over a desk with as much authority as he retained on a battlefield.

Dimitri stroked it raw, beating his cock until it grew sore from the pleasure. He clenched his eyes shut, the taste of her mouth lingering over his tongue. He needed her. In what manner exactly, he did not know. Could he even permit himself to think of indulging in her dripping sex as a possibility? He shook his head with vigor, trying to keep his attention on his cock. It was more difficult than he imagined it to be.

"I can't ta — take it." He whispered, half-drunk on the idea that he could have her for his own. His fingers began to shift faster, sweeping over his skin as cum began to rise through his shaft. Suddenly, the prince convulsed, mouth agape and lip twitching in euphoria. He moaned.

White spurts decorated his abdomen and naval as cum dripped from the tip of his cock.

"Oh, fuck." He hissed. Dimitri continued to stroke it as he rode out the high, twisting his length until he finally grew numb to the sensations. He threw back his head and let out a groan, stretching all his limbs as he thought of his professor, her eyes aflame with shock then. He had enough sense to never bring his desires forth again. Everything was so humiliating. Dimitri twisted in bed, rolling the sheets up once more as he renounced his longing for the night.

For now, daydreams would be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, please leave a comment and don't forget to click kudos if you want to see more! Would love to know your opinions on the story thus far and critique is always appreciated!


	2. Afterglow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will have more chapters than I anticipated. Yay for you? Nay for me?

"When twilight is on the skin and someone's breath is mingling with someone's hair."

— Paavo Haavikko

The scar on her thigh healed well enough. From the angle, Dimitri was barely able to discern the white streak of discolored skin under patches of obsidian lace.

His colorful eyes darted up from his paper now and again, intent on capturing Byleth in a rare moment of vulnerability. They had not spoken for some time since their kiss, Dimitri unable to address her outside of their missions with a noble face. Byleth seemed calm, unflustered for the most part.

Annette had turned her studies to magic. Ashe now rarely fell short of his mark, having drastically improved under Byleth's direction. She used this time to hone her students' skill sets, and to provide them with the necessary arms for battle. In part, as a needed distraction against Dimitri. Yet, life in the academy simply continued, unaware of the transgression between the two, blissfully awaiting the eminent Garreg Mach Ball.

Byleth crossed her legs coyly, sensing Dimitri's heated gaze pressed onto her skin. The prince returned his attention to the exam before him immediately, scribbling the rest of his answers in frustration before he pushed his chair out from underneath him in a loud thud.

Ingrid glanced up curiously, the tip of her dark quill pointed to her own paper as she watched the prince stamp towards Byleth. He was unusually careless. In any standard case, Ingrid and Annette were the first ones to turn in their exams. Dimitri would normally be concentred and sharp-eyed for errors. Such was his nature.

Unlike the other houses, he grew up with many of his classmates. They _knew_ Dimitri better than he did. Felix and Sylvain among the closest, Dimitri loathed their intervention at times. All of the students, however, understood the gravity of the situation before them equally. They recognized him well enough to not approach Byleth steeled of heart.

"Here, professor." He muttered, eyes intentionally skewing away from her intrusive gaze. Byleth reached for the paper, fingertips gripping its corner tentatively before he started to pull away. Byleth nearly spilled from her chair, grabbing onto his forearm dependently, clutching onto the leather glove with a tight squeeze.

"Dimitri." She started, swallowing a breath. The prince froze in his place, hope welling inside his beating chest once more as he spotted her eyes glisten with vibrancy. Her tongue swept over her lips. He trembled at the sight.

"Join me for tea before the ball." She said quietly, then released her sudden grip without another word. Dimitri looked back, his classmates adorning various expressions of shock and curiosity, all with the exception of Mercedes. She simply hummed a soft tune of love as she continued to mark her paper. Mercedes was always the most optimistic of their budding intimacy. Annette squeaked like a mouse.

"As you wish." Dimitri attempted to sound absent of excitement, yet fiddled with the laces on his gloves as he returned to his desk. He beamed once he settled back into the wooden chair, a light smile gracing his lips as he thought of Byleth's proposal. They had only shared a table together on one separate occasion.

The day he turned eighteen, Byleth prepared an ornate assembly of primroses and daffodils as the centerpiece for a tea party. Chamomile tea leaves floated in their cups, the smell having invigorated his mood. She had been a temptress sent to destroy all of his virtue from that moment onward.

Byleth gave a sharp look to the other students before returning to her work. Ashe's face burned at the thought of the two, and Felix scolded him for fidgeting too much in the seat beside him. Eventually, each student turned in their paper as quickly as they could manage.

The air grew thick between the professor and the prince as Byleth continuously shifted her long legs. Dimitri visually engaged in her every movement. She streaked the corners of the exams with crimson ink, grading her students quite generously, then abruptly stood at the head of the room.

"All of you seem to be doing wonderfully. Well, _most_ of you. If you wish to talk about any future changes in your class, please visit me tomorrow." She nodded, using what little magic she had to send the papers soaring back to their respective owners with a pop from her fingers. Sylvain groaned with blaring disappointment, which earned a rather harsh jut to the rib from Ingrid who held a satisfying score in hand. She was one step closer to becoming the renowned pegasus knight of many tales.

The students began to pack their belongings as Byleth returned to Dimitri's side. Dedue thought twice before stepping in between them, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth from the pleasant sight. He used to brood over the prince's affection for their professor. Initially distrustful of her altogether, Dedue had soon changed his perspective on Byleth. It appeared that she also reciprocated such feelings of endearment.

"Aren't you finished for the day?" Byleth asked, a tender note punctuating the question. Dimitri couldn't recall his schedule for a moment, digging his gaze into her breastplate instead, then flitting his eyes back to her face. She cleared her throat.

"Ye — Yes. I believe I am." He muttered shyly. She cocked her head to the side, blank eyes trailing down his body.

"Come with me then." She urged. She clutched his hand before he could say a word against it, knotting her fingers between his as she looked on for any students or guards in the vicinity. He was adorable, picked and dragged along like a toddler, confused and thrilled. She led him towards the courtyard before finally unlacing their hands. It was very brief, but Dimitri had cherished the slenderness of her fingers.

"It's been a long time since we've talked alone, Dimitri. I've wanted to apologize." Byleth suddenly spoke up, her voice nearing a whisper.

"You've done nothing wrong, professor. Please don't fault yourself. I was simply out of line." Ever the valiant prince, Dimitri touched her face with his glove in an effort to comfort her. Byleth's skin pricked at the sensation. Gooseflesh began to dot her arms, her cheeks rising with color, and she pulled away for a moment.

"I wanted to pour tea with you in the gardens. I thought we could speak freely there."

"Oh, of course." He replied. Surrendering himself to her was much too easy of a feat. How could he ever become a king with the constitution of a child? He was pathetic really. Sylvain had briefly mentioned that his affection for the professor would erode away, that it was merely a momentary lapse of judgement on his end. When it hadn't, Dimitri found himself dubious of proper advice from the redhead. And in that, Dimitri realized that he wouldn't be able to part from Byleth in any near future. Their paths, he felt, were entwined.

"You are alright, however?" Dimitri gently lifted her chin with his fingers, mindlessly stroking her loose tresses back and taking in the loveliness before him. She shuddered, the anticipation nearly swallowing her alive. They were so indiscreet, so patently clear to the students that surrounded them. Some tried to inhale their books, eyes unnaturally focused on the small writing. The ones who passed the courtyard shared their observations in hushed voices. The young prince had fallen in love with a woman he wasn't allowed to have. Surely, that was a pitiful sight.

Sable boots stomped across the pavement with an authoritative bounce. The figure was tall and slim, handsome and self-assured. Edelgard brushed her long hair behind her neck, eyes screwed and narrowed at Byleth and Dimitri. It wasn't before she interjected that the prince had noticed. Edelgard was undeniably lovely, but cold and distant. By her side, Hubert remained ever faithful to the heir apparent, his looming shadow obscuring the sun. Dimitri drew away from Byleth instinctively.

"Professor." Edelgard dipped her head in acknowledgement. Her cape fluttered against the wind, lavender ribbons dancing against its current. She turned to Dimitri, eyes scarcely meeting his.

"Your highness." She mumbled. Edelgard addressed her attention towards the professor once more.

"I wished to speak with you about Petra's desire to join your house. Such a shame that you could not direct ours, yet it would seem she has made her choice on the matter." Her tone was not entirely displeased, but Edelgard's respect for the professor could only extend so far.

"Does that concern you?" Byleth asked.

"Not in the slightest. However, with Dorothea also recruited, I cannot spare another one of my classmates to your cause. I hope you can come to understand that."

"I believe Petra is fond of Ashe. She accompanies him to the market often — where he protected her before she approached me on the subject of joining? You shouldn't worry about the others aspiring to do the same."

"So it would seem." Edelgard smiled lightly at that, the image of Petra's beautiful, bronze skin entered her mind. The freckled archer had a tendency to make the Princess of Brigid red. "In any case, I wish the best for her, but please do not permit anymore recruits."

Byleth nodded plainly.

"That is all I wanted to discuss. I will see you at the ball tonight, professor." Edelgard shifted her notice to Dimitri. He quirked a brow at her gaze, quizzically returning a look of suspicion. "Perhaps we can share a dance." She said, then stepped on the pavement once again as she marched past the two. Hubert trailed her silently, opening his mouth to speak with Edelgard in the distance. On what issue, Byleth could not imagine.

"Is it true — about Petra and Ashe?" Dimitri's voice rose a key, intrigued by the new information. On occasion, he was the most oblivious person in the entire academy. Byleth requited a mischievous grin, the edges of her mouth dimpling as she giggled. Dimitri was taken aback.

"Along with Felix and Dorothea." She blurted.

"No. That is impossible." Dimitri shook his head firmly.

"Perhaps you should see what the two have to say about it. You'd be rather surprised." Byleth's eyes creased in delight, and Dimitri was overcome for the third time. His control was dulling the more time spent together, the more glances they shared on the battlefield, and the more his lust grew unchecked. He shook away such thoughts before they moved to consume him.

"Let's hurry before the evening approaches." Dimitri offered his shoulder to Byleth, causing a few glances to usher their way from a noisy group of girls, no doubt biting their nails at the view. Byleth considered the repercussions for a moment, but decided that worse things would occur at the ball later in the night.

They travelled to the gardens, now bathed with flaxen sunlight. Dimitri set up a table, throwing a cloth of ivory lace over it before choosing a cake tray from the kitchen. Normally, students were not permitted to order such lavishes, but Dimitri was an exception of course. The members of the academy regarded the Blaiddyd house with high reverence.

"Quite experienced." Byleth teased. Dimitri's ears burned with a bit of embarrassment.

"It's one of my favorite activities, even more so with you. What flavor shall you have?"

They partook in laughter among the late blossoms of the summer, tea cups in hand as Dimitri leaned against his elbow. The blonde prince was the embodiment of charm. And his winsome looks certainly did him no disfavors. They were difficult to ignore, especially as he encroached on the space between them, reducing the gap as the sun set along the horizon. The garden, trimmed with cardinal roses, was a pleasant change.

Dimitri easily became lost in their conversations about weaponry, glorious knights, and her former life as a mercenary. Particularly, he cared about the latter, and would ask the professor many questions concerning this. Byleth was insistent that she did not enjoy the profession, but was rather apathetic towards it altogether. The prince respected her honesty and valued her strong fortitude, listening to incidents that some would not be able to stomach. He reminded himself, as King of Faerghus, he would need to act with similar conviction.

Lemon slices floated in their cups, melting a sour tang into the sweetness of the tea. Byleth clutched the rim of the cup with both hands, gazing down into the porcelain ring, a sigh floating from her wet lips. She took another sip and tried to relax. Exchanging pleasantries with Dimitri no longer felt the same, an added aura of tension having affected her at every turn.

"Is something the matter?" Dimitri asked. Byleth hesitated, muddled by her own emotions, misplacing them.

"Dimitri, I've come to care for you greatly. As my student, you must know I only wish to see to your success." Dimitri looked at her in surprise, the edge of his cup more or less hovering above his mouth. He was disappointed, but continued to smile regardless — a smile empty of joy.

"Thank you, professor. I'm always very grateful for your instruction." He emphasized this, shaking his head in pure wonder. It was true. Byleth was an excellent teacher despite merely being three years his senior, an accomplishment that Dimitri thought unparalleled. Byleth ignored her more inappropriate thoughts on the other end, and stopped her tongue from betraying more.

"Even in dancing?" She quipped. The prince chuckled, a breath of relief accompanying his nervous grin.

"Yes, even with that. I am still thankful you did not choose me to be the house's representative." He confessed, swallowing another gulp of hot tea.

"You would have been wonderful." He laughed at that.

"I'm flattered, but I think Flayn was the best choice. I'm interested to see her perform tonight." Dimitri finished his cup and stood from the table. Filled with peppermint cakes and chocolate macaroons, Byleth considered her appetite gone. Dimitri reached a hand towards Byleth, offering her his large palm. She gripped his fingers and rose, awkwardly leaning into his chestplate in doing so. The prince eagerly wrapped an arm across her waist in an attempt to steady her. He chuckled, unable to contain himself.

"Forgive me, professor. But you are fairly short." Byleth took offense to this, considering that she was older and already on the smaller side of their match. In half a year, Dimitri would inevitably soar overhead. She stretched her legs ever so timidly to reach Dimitri's height. He delighted in the fact that he reared above her, even in the slightest of measures, and braced himself to her icy touch.

She slid her fingers over his soft face, black nails upon his light complexion. The contrast between them was unmistakable. Her with her steely hair and eyes, clothes the color of ink and mulberries, enchanted him. She was unlike any other woman Dimitri had seen in the royal courts. And him with his splendid gait, eyes like a newborn sky, relished her very being. Nothing would serve him better than to cherish her.

"Byleth." He dipped into her neck, placing a kiss on the edge of her jaw. "I'm so glad you were born." Byleth softened at those words. She knelt into his embrace, and shut her eyes tightly as he clamped down on her body in possession. Dimitri steadied himself before gently brushing over her skin with his warm lips, peppering her neckline with bouts of his breath. She grasped his cloak tensely at the sensation. His mouth had tickled her.

"Let me have my way with you." He said it with desperation. Dimitri was becoming careless, pushing into her, tongue tracing her neck hungrily. The sweet prince ran his hand across her hips, tugging Byleth closer as he captured a piece of her skin in between his teeth. Byleth quivered hotly at the touch. He paused, allowing her a moment to put an end to his advances if she so desired. Byleth winced, but did no such thing, instead choosing to situate her fingers on the nape of his neck.

Encouraged, Dimitri sucked her skin until it bruised. Byleth moaned against the feeling in newfound pleasure, her spine curving as he gradually shifted his weight. The rose gardens were private and had an obscure entrance, but Byleth took issue with the thought of them being caught in the bushes like wild rabbits.

She relocated her hands to Dimitri's shoulders when he tipped her against the table. Dimitri settled himself between her legs, turned on by the way she jerked his hair, proud when Byleth sobbed a needy whimper.

"Spread your thighs." He whispered, digging his fingers underneath the lace. Dimitri squeezed at the plump flesh, ripping an entrance between her tights, and slipped his tongue in between the tear. Byleth whined at the sudden wetness. His tongue was sultry, twisting, twirling circles on the upper edge of her thigh. She huffed, bated breath caught inside her throat before she stretched out. She tugged at his locks once more as he prodded into her skin, teeth grazing her milky thigh.

He felt a deep sense of pity for her as he gripped a handful there, gaze spotting the white scar he had created. Byleth looked aflush, all wine-colored cheeks and half-lidded eyes. Dimitri experienced a pang in his chest that urged him closer, drawing him into his lovely professor as she laid spread across the table. Beside her, slices of peppermint cakes still rested on the silver tray.

He wondered if she tasted any sweeter, briefly reminiscing over the moment in the training grounds. Dimitri enclosed the space between them, climbing up onto the table, and pressed his mouth against her own.

She cried into the sugar-laced kiss, tongues entwined in rapture. Dimitri tasted the aforementioned dessert. The blend of mint melted against their mouths, chocolate accents following suit. Dimitri groaned, excited by the possibility of being caught. He imagined this often, whether in his bed or during a lecture, being discovered by a maid or guard had always incited his more perverted impulses.

"Dimi — please stop." She pleaded, rushing her hand against the table's rim. The prince recoiled at the sound of her palm hitting the wood with such force. Dimitri did as she asked. His blond fringes brushed along her forehead as he raised himself.

Her body went slack, hands twitching from the pressure, reaching for his cheek in a reckless moment of desire. Defensively, the prince turned away, frightened of Byleth's response. He did not wish to hear her reject him once again.

"I'll find you after the ball." He proclaimed, putting himself together before offering Byleth an apologetic look. He swept a hand through his tousled hair. A sigh expelled from his lips. She was disheveled, shorts vaguely crooked, tresses spilt in every direction. Dimitri quelled his urge to take her there, to spread her legs on the table as he rammed against her wet cunt. The thought alone aroused him immensely.

"Dimitri, you should know that — " The prince was unimaginably afraid of her words, instead choosing to tilt her face as she began. He inspected the damage with a worried eye. Her throat was flecked with deep, purple marks, one side particularly saturated with the prince's love bites.

Byleth touched her neck self-consciously. Dimitri apologized, face heated, yet hopeful that the marks would disappear before the start of the ball. Byleth did not boast the same optimism, knowing how such marks endured.

The sky darkened, fading blue hues uniting with the red. Byleth and Dimitri were at opposing ends of twin roads. There they would remain until time eroded their bond, fate driving its might into the corners of a monastery in ruins. Byleth noticed the colors overhead. She thought, perhaps even aspired that the world would collapse around them for their misdeeds. Moreover, she imagined it would punish her for the feelings that she did so well to ignore. Dimitri looked at her, eyes reared in worship.

They sat together in the depth of the gardens, twilight reborn in violet flames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of wanted to include the other students in the background to make the story more dynamic. I might have just alluded to all my favorite ships though, whoops. Ashe and Petra are my favorite out of them all. Might make a one shot about them post-timeskip, strictly full of smut however. Leave a comment and don't forget to kudos! Do it! It helps!


	3. The Tower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri over here with a smoothie and a shirt that reads #barelylegal. Make the fanart.

"My mind is filled with dreams of romantic meetings."

— Virginia Woolf

The glossy marble floor, like blocks of soft, white chocolate, reflected the large expanse of the ceiling overhead. Crystal chandeliers shone brilliantly and cast light upon Byleth's gown.

Its sequins bounced attention to the glittering stones laced upon her neck. Champagne diamonds adorned the choker, dim yellow flickering with every gesture. A gift from Dorothea, the elaborate necklace was bound to other pieces set below her collar.

Strings of saltwater pearls draped from her shoulders, swinging with grace as Byleth twirled, creating an illusion of sleeves. More of the jewels lined against them, against the metalwork as well. It was as though Byleth climbed from the sea that night reawakened. She was ever beautiful.

The choker did well enough to conceal the bruises that Dimitri had left. For that Byleth was grateful, and very keen on staying within the margins of the room. She hadn't known what to brandish when it came to the ball. She hadn't procured a dress, nor had she tailored her own in the prior weeks. Instead, Dorothea insisted on gathering materials for a dress without her awareness.

It was simpler than the garish assembly most of the nobles displayed. Black and sophisticated, the ebony gown folded to the floor in two parts. Its center was detailed, beads of sequins rested there in a long design, but its fringes were pure, black silk. Byleth chose to compliment the necklace with pearls fastened in her hair.

They twinkled against her curled tresses, droplets of finery acquired from the seas surrounding Brigid. Petra insisted on sewing a cluster into the professor's hair once she knew of Dorothea's scheme, almost as if the princess fished the oysters out of the briny waters herself.

Byleth gazed around the grand room, enchanted by the decadence surrounding her. She had never encountered a sight like this, her most fanciful days having been spent in taverns after a successful mission or two. Cups thrown to the roof, banter springing off the walls, that was where Byleth felt most delighted.

The ballroom was magnificent in a different way. Skin glowed softly against golden lamps. Desserts decorated the corners of the room, Ingrid partial to the sweet, raspberry tarts among other things. All of Byleth's students appeared to enjoy themselves uniquely.

She noticed the girls wore colorful pieces. Their sleeves fluttered in Faerghus colors, blue and red strips of ribbon flying with every motion. The boys were rather bashful at the sight, Felix unusually timid once Dorothea came to view, and Ashe enthusiastic to claim Petra for a dance.

The professor stood uncomfortably in the midst of the students, clutching the silk edges of her dress. She ran her mind over the encounter with Dimitri. How regal he must have appeared now, suited to his clothes unlike her. She felt unnatural and ungainly inside the gown — as though she didn't belong in the room of aristocrats.

Byleth clutched a glass chalice anxiously, tapping its lip with her ring. The lavender and rose-colored accents began to soothe Byleth as she looked to her finger. Fidgeting with it became a habit of hers ever since she received her mother's engagement ring, but it was even more recurrent once Dimitri came to mind.

"Hey, professor." Byleth's eyes shot up, startled by the unfamiliar voice. Claude had sauntered towards her with a distinct sash of gold spun around his waist. He was wearing a traditional outfit from Almyra, spiral detailing weaved into his tunic, and an undershirt of a lighter shade. He seemed relaxed in his clothes. A smile flitted over his face, and he bore out his palm.

"I don't really need to ask, do I?" He laughed.

Byleth didn't have much time to set down her glass before Claude stepped forward. Without lingering, the noble snatched Byleth's wrist and drew her to the center, smugness touching his lips. He treaded elegantly where eyes followed, ensuring that Byleth didn't appear as flustered as she really was.

Her nervous gaze snapped away to make out the vague silhouette of Dimitri's back. The prince's blond locks were unmistakable. She had seen them too many times before, had them tickle her skin when he pinned her against a metal table. Byleth swallowed thickly. She wanted to flee to her bedchamber. She wanted to feign illness and excuse herself. Claude was cruel in some ways, sensing people's uneasiness with tricks and falsehoods. He never failed to exploit an enemy's weakness.

Knowingly, he was doing exactly that.

"Pretty necklace. Ah, but I _really_ love what's underneath." Claude brushed a loose strand of Byleth's hair away, pulling the interior of her choker towards him with a lick from his lips. He smiled widely.

Byleth scowled. She was apprehensive. Claude had chosen her for the first dance of the ball on short notice. It was rather unprecedented for him to do so, considering that they had little interactions aside from the occasional mock battle.

Byleth was almost unfazed by the comment. She knew of Claude's playful disposition. He was clever enough to not press her on the matter, and even more clever to not ask who exactly marked her neck.

He laughed to himself ardently, spinning Byleth and clutching her small frame whenever he had the chance, humming as they stepped around the other two pairs. Dimitri's neck prickled, discerning Byleth's profile for a moment before Claude blocked her from his line of sight.

Dimitri had been bombarded with a series of desperate appeals before Byleth arrived. Nearly a quarter of the academy implored the prince for his hand, and Dimitri could only stave off requests for so long. Edelgard had found no trouble in securing a partner. Yet, seeing the house leaders share the dance with others reminded Byleth of Edelgard's previous words. The soon-to-be empress desired to dance with Dimitri, but was unable to do so because of their rivalry.

Claude, meanwhile, intentionally waited to obtain a partner until Byleth appeared in the background. He truly did like to employ devious tactics, for the dance would not commence without his decision. Surely he was scouting for her, his intentions unclear but suspicious, and his smile half-hearted.

Dimitri was unable to look at Byleth. The dance routine was choreographed in a circle, spinning the students with the focus on their respective partners. He knew she was there, however, and was eager to catch a glimpse of her evening gown.

Byleth attempted to follow Claude's lead, allowing herself to be guided across the floor. She wasn't entirely frightful to look upon. The noble before her simpered, twisting and twirling her excessively as some kind of test. Byleth was extremely concentrated on where she was placing her feet. Claude dipped his head down to watch her. Curiously, he decided to try and step over her shoes in order to see what her reaction might be. She rocketed her eyes back up, glaring into his face.

"Claude!" She hissed, a skittish noise following suit.

"You'd be terrible in the courts of Almyra. Goddess, they'd laugh." He chuckled. Claude finally relented his teasing, taking Byleth properly into his arms once more.

"They're staring, professor. You think they like what they see? I mean, you and I together?" He winked, a frivolous and impish tone heard among the dancers. The music drowned out his words for the most part, but Dimitri was swaying close enough to hear the intention of Claude's off-putting remark. Byleth huffed a sound of annoyance, both amused by her partner and disgruntled by the onlookers.

She let him spin her once more, twirling on her heels as he dipped her across Dimitri's partner on cue. The pearls jingled with the motion. Byleth's gaze connected with Dimitri in that instant, but Claude didn't suspend her for more than a few seconds.

His emerald eyes shot up to Dimitri in defiance. The prince, although not wishing to sour the atmosphere for his partner, returned a hostile glare. Claude grinned triumphantly and inclined his voice to a whisper.

"Be careful with him." Claude smiled, hands roaming across Byleth's hips with keenness.

"What are you talking about?" Byleth narrowed her eyes, but Claude clicked his tongue in disapproval. He knew how to masterfully spot a lie, especially one by omission. He was a marvelous liar himself.

"It's for your own good." He responded. Byleth said nothing to that.

"Did you nip on his neck as well?" She was beginning to feel nauseous dancing with Claude. He was goading her for a reaction, but she was uncertain if he was being callous or light-hearted in nature. Byleth turned her gaze to Dimitri, whose expression softened for the girl he was dancing with, cobalt eyes flickering to Byleth every now and then.

The music eventually lifted, prompting the rest of the students to join them in the dance. Annette and Dedue brushed up against one another, the disparity in their statures blatant as Dedue asked for her hand. Sylvain was twirling alone contently, moving ever so slightly offbeat to the tune without a care. Ingrid shoved a custard pastry in her mouth at the sight, and rushed towards the idiot to keep him from embarrassing himself any further.

Byleth took this opportunity to slip away, excusing herself as Claude still held onto the same insincere smile. Their fingertips swept together, unnerving her as Claude loosened his grip. He let go and disappeared into the crowd of the room. Glasses chinked together, voices mixed. Byleth shifted her regard to Dimitri, who was now moving towards her with urgency.

"Byleth! You're — " His voice boomed, quieting as he took in his surroundings. Dimitri surveyed her gown, inspecting every feature with excitement before extending his palm. He was extremely gentle. Byleth had always known this to be the case, but Claude's comment seemed to insinuate otherwise.

Dimitri pressed forward, scooping up Byleth within his tight grasp. The students hardly noticed, preoccupied with the trance of the music and their own unwieldy steps. Dimitri was too gorgeous to fathom. He was fitted in an embroidered, military coat.

Large shoulder pads with golden fringes accompanied it, and two bands of rope joined the pad placed on the right to the center of his collar. A ruby glistened within the clip that connected them. Another shimmered on the left side of his chest inside an identical clip.

The center of the coat was lined with gold. Its sides were a dark but vibrant blue, nearly matching the shade of his eyes. Byleth was taken aback, running her hands across his torso, feeling the texture of the thick embroidery.

Dimitri was wonderstruck himself, brimming with joy at the sight of his enigmatic professor. She wore the dress of his dreams. Not long ago, he imagined her in such a gown, pearls tracing her neck. He longed to hold her on the night of the ball, to share a special dance with one another. Dimitri gestured for her. Impatience edged on his mind.

"You're beautiful. Really." He was so earnest. Byleth smiled, eyes creased and teeth beginning to show.

"Do you like it? Sylvain wished that I wear another color. Red, surely."

"I should like to see you in white someday." Dimitri uttered.

"Oh." She laughed excitably, winding around his boots against the rhythm. Dimitri's eyes trailed the pearls that danced with the music, the silk borders of her skirt, and the way Byleth's dimples spread alongside her face. A thought suddenly appeared in his mind. Poignant enough to move him.

"You flatter me." She said.

"That _is_ my intention, professor." Dimitri spun her once more, spotting a dash of red behind her. Edelgard continued to pirouette with her partner. Her silvery hair was chained up to a pin. Her gown was vermillion, easy to differentiate among the dancers. Gold lace trimmed her skirt. Dimitri flicked his eyes back to Byleth's face. He beamed, a smile becoming of the prince.

"Come with me."

Byleth accompanied his broad shoulder as she was swept from the ballroom. They hurriedly escaped to greet the chilled sky, the moon budding over the borders of a bygone tower. Byleth thought Dimitri wished to visit the monastery. Perhaps the young prince wanted a place of quietude. His faith was strong, but Byleth had seldom seen Dimitri pay tribute to The Goddess.

The crisp air did the professor much good regardless, and she never did fare well being enclosed in a busy space for any event. She exhaled a breath of liberation, hoping the stars would be brilliant for all her worries. Sothis's voice pinged in her ear, but vanished as soon as the little imp managed to get in a crack against Byleth's dancing skills. Byleth sighed in relief. It would seem she would be left alone for the night.

"Aren't you going to dance with Edelgard?" She asked suddenly, her tone innocent.

Dimitri trained his eyes on her shadow, his handsome features shining luminously under the round, sterling moon.

"No, I should think not." Dimitri shook his head solemnly, remembering a story buried in the past. He had discussed his relation to Edelgard with Byleth some time before, making it evident that those feelings for her had long dissipated. The little girl from Enbarr was no more.

Edelgard had changed, having been tortured until her coffee-colored mane had turned white from the stress. The toll the experiments placed on her body was nothing in comparison to the way her mind had adapted to the trauma of it all. Intolerant and dour, Edelgard banished any hope for true affection.

She was dismissive of her endearment for Dimitri as a result, leaving the lovestruck prince alone in the world for years. Having lost his family, then Edelgard, the prince developed some concealed tendencies. He fell into rages, merciless against his opponents. He lusted after Byleth like a madman. It was a side of him that Dimitri yearned to destroy. Yet, it was simply chained, waiting to crush its metal bolts once again.

He gazed at the marks that blighted Byleth's neck under the precious stones, running his hand across her tender face. Dimitri felt shame taint his conscience. He hadn't meant to be so aggressive, so volatile in his longing.

"I apologize for my roughness." He found her hand in his soon. "Will you accompany me for a bit? You must be tired of the ball."

"Would you like to pray?"

"Yes, something of the sort. I wanted to take you to The Goddess Tower." Byleth blinked, having never heard of such a tower.

"Can we see the stars from there?" She asked. Surprised by her simple request, he laughed. Byleth amazed him, and through his many imaginings of her, he thought her to be otherworldly. If there was such a thing.

"I'm sure we can, but I'd rather gaze at you. Stars cannot be compared to your magnificence." He said as a pretty laugh escaped his lips. "Come along."

The pair traversed through the open wind, cracks in the stone allowing the night's air to prick their flesh. Byleth felt weak at her knees, clumsily clinging onto Dimitri through the spiral cases, feet clattering on the old rock without an ounce of grace. It was unusual of her, but she was beginning to become accustomed to Dimitri's strong arms. He was very fit and gallant, catching Byleth's wrists through the journey.

"Are you aware of the legend surrounding the tower?" He inquired. Blond strands bounced against the draft.

"No. What does it say?" Dimitri opened his mouth before promptly reconsidering. He placed a finger on his lips, indicating that he would tell her once they were established.

They found themselves at the top level, standing collectively over the ballroom's lights, faint voices of merriment echoing towards them. Dimitri looked at Byleth, her eyes affixed to the view before her. Dimitri refrained from sharing the entirety of the truth. The Goddess Tower was frequented by couples who eloped on the night of the ball. It was a long-standing tradition that created many rumors about the legend — of which Dimitri doubted.

"It says that any wish can be granted here, but I don't believe in such a silly notion. The Goddess just watches over us from above. No matter how hard someone begs to be saved, she would never so much as offer her hand. And even if she did, we lack the means to reach out and grab it."

Byleth snapped her attention away from the skyline at his hopeless words. He was almost pitiful, but it seemed that he had already accepted the reality of his unanswered prayers. He smiled to himself and turned towards Byleth. She frowned. Her fingers crept towards his own hesitantly.

"Perhaps I sound cynical, we _are_ here on the night of the ball. There's no harm in wishing for something. Do you have anything in mind?" Byleth didn't answer, her fears entrapping her enough to withdraw her hand. She wanted to help Dimitri, to save him from the past, to cure the spell of kings that cursed him. Dimitri swallowed a heavy breath of air, respiring deep from within his chest.

"Byleth, I wish that we could always be together. From now until the end of time, I want you to stay by my side." Byleth snapped her head towards him, his expression wholly serious. She was at a loss for words, nearing muteness as she gaped, wide-eyed. He stiffened.

He was beginning to worry, unease settling inside him as the seconds elapsed. He desired a response. Did she not feel the same? It made no sense to him. He was sure that Byleth was about to apologize, a look full of pity gracing his foolish hopes. He filled the silence, another sigh flowing out.

"I'm only joking. You must admit I've improved by now." Byleth glowered.

"That didn't sound like a joke, Dimitri."

Quiet surrounded them for a time. The prince felt the coolness of a breeze course through the tower. He shut his eyes softly. A sound rustled against him, prompting him to take notice. Byleth allowed her hair to fall upon her shoulders, the pearls flaring under the moon's silver light as she unclipped her tresses.

Dimitri reopened his eyelids, gaze trimming over her thick lips, drinking in her cleavage. She turned to him, deftly picking apart the laces of her dress as her hands moved behind her frame.

"Here's my wish. If you can't remain with me forever, then settle with being mine here. Right now." Her voice was amorous, filled with thirst and hunger.

Byleth probed her thumbs onto his smooth face. One finger stroked against his lips to part. His eyes dilated, heart flushed and hammering, cheeks stained blood-red. He could hardly contain himself, twitching and muttering under his breath before leaning back.

She smiled with joy, adoring the prince, drinking in his reaction. She was so beautiful, a vision under pale moonlight. He could not think of anything other than having her for his own.

"Goddess, please don't torment me." He pleaded, harsh breaths overtaking him. Dimitri allowed himself to be restrained against the frigid wall of the tower as she nudged him back. Byleth wasn't forceful. She wasn't confident in what she was doing, a part of her frightened that Dimitri was too young for such an act. Byleth was no longer a virgin, but she wasn't very experienced, having slept with a mercenary when she was nineteen. She waited. Dimitri found his voice once more.

"Do you want me?" He asked sternly, his deep tone resonating through the pockets of stone.

"Yes." She replied. He wanted her too. Most severely.

He dove in, parting her mouth as she followed along, gliding his tongue around for a taste. He poked his teeth against her lips, pushing his tongue deeper inside her mouth until she mewled. Dimitri kissed her again, more passionate than before, and swept his fingers around her face. Byleth dipped down, being forced under his weight as he wrapped his arms around the small of her back. Her spine curled underneath him. He was dominating, pushing her senses to their extreme.

"I can't control myself with you." She exhaled. Thrilled and inflamed, Dimitri ran his fingers through her open locks. Pearls clattered onto the floor against his boots as he tangled his hand in her shock of hair. He pulled against her tresses, profoundly enjoying the sound that parted from her rosy lips.

"Where shall I fuck you?" He whispered. She moaned as he dragged another fistful of her hair back. He wasn't attempting to hurt her, but his excitement was itching away at him, urging the prince to fuck her into the floor. Dimitri's cock swelled against his trousers, hardening as he clutched her shapely body. Shy, he tucked it away. But it only continued to grow once Byleth unfurled the last lace in her gown.

She allowed the dress to fall past her legs, and Dimitri groaned in frustration. He started to undress, kicking off his boots for the last piece. The air was ice-cold towards his skin. He shuddered before finding Byleth's warmth in the middle of his palm. He grabbed her breast with one hand, squeezing its fullness as he cried in satisfaction. His other fingers dipped below her waist, sneaking apart her thighs when he found her soaked.

Dimitri was experiencing these sensations for the first time. He enjoyed playing with her nipples, tugging against the dark skin as they grew stiff within his fingertips. Byleth looked away, embarrassment interrupting her pleasure. She hummed a sigh of elation. He sang back to her, his fingers dipping into her wet pussy. His throat constricted once he imagined his cock tucked inside of her where it belonged.

The prince wanted Byleth to be his first and very last lover. He would make her his queen in a fortnight if he were able. He wanted to take her back to Faerghus, to present her to his subjects as his lovely and mysterious consort. Dimitri was obsessed with her strength and kindness almost as much as he was obsessed with her beauty.

He knelt against her thick thighs and bid her to fall with a tug of her wrist. She complied, the cold slab of the stone greeting her back as she lied there. Dimitri persisted in pleasing her, making her whimper as he swirled his fingers in tight circles against her wet cunt. He found a tender spot, moving his fingers harsher as she begged for more, moaning and twisting her spine against the chill.

"I want to be inside you. But — " Dimitri's hands smacked the frigid stone as he centered himself between her legs. Byleth caught her breath, watching his lips as they edged closer to her pussy. She was sopping. Her body was hypersensitive, untouched for two years. Dimitri found it incredibly arousing. His cock twitched even more, its veins stretching as blood rushed with anticipation.

"You're mine. Do you understand?" He spoke softly against the texture of her skin there as he pushed his tongue out. He savored her, wetness trailing the edges of her pussy before dipping into its core. His cock was pressed against his stomach as it rocketed up, twitching in sporadic turns as he continued to eat her out. Byleth moaned, drawing a deep breath when she threw her hands back.

"Ye — Yes." She pursed her lips. Dimitri sucked in her taste before deciding to touch her again. He lifted his head and clutched her tits, pushing them together as he growled, restless and wanting. Dimitri traced the remaining pearls still laced in her hair. He trembled, eyes blackened with lust.

"Help me put it inside you." Byleth nearly froze at his bluntness, but touched the base of his cock gingerly, rubbing her fingers against it without thinking. Dimitri grunted. He shifted against Byleth, hovering over her feminine shape, and kneaded his dick.

Byleth spread her legs further, allowing Dimitri to settle in more comfortably before he spotted a clear image of the professor. Her hands hugged her thighs from underneath as she stretched her torso. She was wanton, and Dimitri swore that he wouldn't be able to last a minute with a woman like her.

"Fuck." He hissed, pressing the head of his cock against the rim of her pussy. It was so inviting. It slipped in, slowly and pleasurably as Dimitri sunk himself into her. Byleth let out a gasp, aiding her in reducing the painful feeling of being stretched. Goddess, she was tight. How could she be so tight? Dimitri was racking his head for answers as he became enveloped by her walls. They contracted against his cock as he moved, forcing him to expel another grunt.

His curses jolted Byleth as he started to rock inside her. She was unprepared to hear them, always knowing Dimitri as the refined prince he was. She had never heard Dimitri like this, chaotic and without control as he readjusted his sweaty palms, swearing obscenities with every thrust.

"Byleth, you're meant for me. Look at how you take me." Byleth whimpered. The sound of skin clapping against the stillness of the tower encouraged Dimitri to move harder. He fucked her with as much might as he could relay, shoving his cock into the depth of her until she clutched his shoulders.

He pounded into her, moaning and shouting against the empty walls that surrounded them. Byleth relished his coarse voice edged on the brink of insanity. The prince dug his fingers into her hips, stretch marks underneath only reminding him of her voluptuousness.

Dimitri was very nearly about to come before he forced himself to stop, panting harshly in unison with Byleth. Sweat dimpled their skin as Dimitri stroked her thighs, clutching a handful with each pause. He wetted his lips, eyes shooting up to Byleth's face.

"I _need_ you on your hands and knees." Byleth was about to protest. She hoped he would take a break or reflect against the sensations properly before they overwhelmed him. Instead, Dimitri clutched Byleth's thick ass, and spun her around as she propped up her elbows. Byleth's spine curled, her ass sticking up, and Dimitri began to search for her tight, little hole. She moved to her hands right as Dimitri entered, a slow drawl silencing her as she gazed up at his eyes. They were screwed in pleasure.

"Stay there. Look back at me as I take you." He groaned, hands roaming to her breasts before giving each a tight squeeze. His balls smacked against her ass, creating even more sound that bounced off the stone walls in consistent slaps.

"Oh, fuck!" Byleth wailed.

"Hn, please don't refrain." Dimitri said in between thrusts, burying himself into her with a beat. Byleth's pussy was beginning to become sore, unused to this kind of length and treatment as Dimitri fucked her raw. "I want to hear every moan, every scream of yours." He said sweetly, a bit breathless.

"I think I'm going to come." He admitted, quickening his pace and pushing his hand down on Byleth's back. Byleth nodded, eyes connecting with his as he took her hand, entwining their fingers together before a sudden squirt exploded from his pelvis. Dimitri came hard, spilling his seed into her without intending to do so. His cock twitched and rolled cum inside her. She shivered, sensing its texture against her thigh as he pulled out.

"Dimi — "

"I'm so sorry. I wasn't quick enough." Dimitri immediately apologized, kissing Byleth's neck fervently as he examined her body for bruises. The stone was a rather harsh substitute for a mattress, but Byleth felt at ease.

"Are you — Have I hurt you?" He was careful in turning her skin, yet she reached out, even giggling to Dimitri's surprise.

"I love you, Dimitri."

He felt his heart fly into his throat, pools of blood rushing to the surface of his skin, burning him as he slicked back his bangs. He chuckled as he swept his fingers through his locks. Byleth showed no coyness, no humiliation with her feelings. Perhaps that was a reason he was so enchanted with her.

It alarmed Byleth in part. She had been the most expressive with Dimitri than ever in her lifetime. As fate would credit, the only person who was able to draw out such smiles and fits of laughter from Byleth was the Prince of Faerghus. It exhilarated Dimitri to know that he was the only one with this power.

"Are you alright? You didn't strain yourself, did you?" She asked.

"No, but I'm afraid I wasn't able to conduct myself for very long. I hope I satisfied you." Embarrassment brushed his ears.

"You were everything."

Dimitri shook his head in disbelief, sliding his fingers against Byleth's waist. Her skin was as soft as before, velvety and smooth. Dimitri leaned in to place a kiss on her lips, prodding her mouth ajar once more to dip in his tongue. She was sweet, and he wanted to taste such sweetness for the rest of his life.

"I can't begin to believe this is real. You were so wondrous. You — really love me." Dimitri barely gave himself time to process her words before he realized that he hadn't told her himself. Immediately, he rectified this. "I love you so much. You're more than my professor, I adore you."

 _Professor_.

"That's right." She muttered sadly, her fingers tracing his. Dimitri was quick to notice her tone, entreating her with another kiss. He was tender and considerate, and this comforted Byleth against the cold nip of the night air. The two gazed upon the ballroom's splendor, fireworks beginning to dash into the sky. The colors burst, trickling shards of light chasing one another before dissolving into nothingness. Byleth looked on with guilt.

"Come the morning, penitence won't change anything. I'm going to take care of you, Byleth. I swear it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Byleth's dress was so fucking hard to figure out. I mean, I must have looked through so many medieval references until I finally said fuck it! I'll post the links to the outfits in the last chapter of the story. You have 'petorah' to thank for the fancy descriptions. Don't forget to leave a comment and kudos!


	4. Lament

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No more peppermint cakes, sweet children.

"Colors so bright, they nearly broke my heart."

— Donna Tartt

Rain pattered on Dimitri's face relentlessly. Water dripped from the points of his hair, falling upon his cheeks, his lashes soaked and transfixed from autumn's cold. He held stoutly onto the grooves of Byleth's flesh. Prodding his fingers into her thighs for more leverage, Dimitri rasped his teeth together with a grunt.

He had been grunting for a while as he carried her. She wasn't heavy, but the prince was sore to the very mallow of his bones. His body throbbed with bruises, and his feet grew more blistered with every step, scuffling along the edges of his metal boots.

Dimitri trailed an eye over her scar. It was beginning to sicken him. That same, pitiful scar that he created lingered there like a ghost. It was symbolic of his attachment to Byleth, a blemish that shouldn't have marked her. He used to think that she was formidable enough to withhold her stance on a battlefield. Her with her long, light sword and resilient eyes struck pride in him. Yet, Dimitri had changed over the months. He had crushed all remaining sensibility when he shattered that mask.

He wouldn't permit another mark to touch her sacred body.

Dimitri readjusted his grip, bouncing Byleth up as he shifted his hand. She was lithe, so delicate within his possession. However, it had been a long march from their battle with Solon. The once acclaimed librarian of Garreg Mach nearly killed her, but Byleth overcame the evil at a price.

Her hair was a shock of green now, and Dimitri was unable to stop himself from gazing at the muted color for too long. He hadn't collected all of the details yet, although that didn't matter. He simply wanted to assure Byleth was safe from any harm and sheltered from the spilling rain.

He brushed past most of the students unapologetically, including his own classmates, treading up the stairs of her room with a somber air. Byleth was beginning to awaken, tears streaking her face as she remembered the harrowing curve of the dagger. Her father's blood had dripped from its edges, soaking into the ground.

She curled into Dimitri's chest. The prince stood by her bedside for a moment, savoring her warmth before placing her upon the sheets. He pecked her on the lips, mouth opening against hers as teardrops brushed his skin. She was sobbing louder with every passing moment. Dimitri hated it, wishing to stamp out her pain with his attention.

He began to climb onto the mattress, discarding his clothes in the process. Each wet, slippery piece slid to the floor before she glanced up with swollen eyes. Byleth whimpered cries of misery as Dimitri picked apart her corset. He stifled her moans with a hand to her mouth, allowing her to bite down on the edges of his fingers, still deftly unbinding the laces with the others.

Dimitri flipped her on her stomach, his fingers moving quicker as she squirmed. Byleth managed to crack her head back, spying a glance of his bare chest only to find wounds slashed in every direction. They were fresh but mitigated with Mercedes's white magic. Dimitri never said a word about them, but each time he made love to her, Byleth noticed a new scar had formed. She shot up her hands in protest, patting his coiled fingers.

"Please." Even her own breath choked her. "Someone will know."

"Everyone knows." It was a jarring sound, a growl of a beast that shook her. She drew away her hand reflexively. Dimitri breathed in her scent as he roamed over her body. The grass had rubbed up against her, coating her in that faint, earthy smell where she had collapsed. Dimitri was becoming senseless. His love for Byleth was a vice. It constricted him into obsession the more he fell into its trap. He was manic, crazed.

"I swore to protect you, Byleth." He kissed her again, dipping his tongue in between her lips.

"Dimi — " He didn't want to hear what she had to say, occupying himself with the heat of her mouth instead. He finally loosened the corset and pulled the piece out from underneath her. Byleth gasped when she felt the chill upon her wet skin. Her breasts flung to the prince's view. He groaned at the sight, already hard as he rutted against her hips in small, kneading thrusts.

"Take refuge in me, find solace here." He ground out with a sigh. Dimitri relocated his hand to the dip of her waist, moving his cock against her thick, fat ass. He adored seeing it shake when he fucked her from behind, always cushioning his thighs whenever he visited her bedchamber. Dimitri began to unfurl his breeches, causing Byleth to shudder in apprehension. He released his swelling cock.

It was pretty, the pink head glistening with excitement as Byleth reared back. Dimitri looked at her curiously as she prompted herself to her knees and elbows. She was gazing back with expectation. She wanted him to numb her, to plunge into her without restraint. She had mourned for a month. It was enough, and Dimitri had been right in his intentions. As he proceeded to enter her, Byleth clutched the base of his cock, then shoved its entirety into her slick depths.

"Make me forget, Dimitri." She moaned, tears still trickling her face as he filled her. The prince obliged her through and through, propelling his hips forward with a harsh smack, repeating this rhythm until she lost sense of time. He fucked her into the mattress unforgivingly. Byleth clutched the corners of the bed as she shifted positions, sometimes straightening her back as his cock angled into her from atop. He would secure her hair within his hands, tugging on her pastel locks with one as the other rocked her hips back and forth. She grit her teeth through the initial discomfort, finding it easier to bear if she curled her fingers, digging her nails into the sides of her hands.

"So — fucking — good." Dimitri expelled.

Byleth whined in agreement, now greeting the coolness of the sheets with her abdomen. They were so loud, nearly screaming at some point as Dimitri sped up his movements. She worried about the rain, whether it would be enough to drown out their incessant noises. Goddess, she hoped Annette didn't hear. She wouldn't be able to face the ginger-haired girl ever again. Byleth clutched the rim of the bedframe, her eyes shut and head spinning as Dimitri continued to pound her. Her pussy encased him, clamping down on his cock.

"Fuck!" He hissed, burying his thumbs into the notches of her pelvis. The prince huffed out another delightful groan as he moved against her. Byleth was beginning to hurt, panting as a twinge shot up her body and dulled her senses. Dimitri was quick to notice and immediately concentrated on the pumping of his cock.

"By — Byleth, I want to come."

"Just do it." She whimpered, and Dimitri spilled into her once again. She didn't feel it this time, she rarely did, but Dimitri had a lot to give as he held her firmly against his quivering hips. Cum forced inside her, then tipped out as he pulled away, jerking her head up with intrigue when moved. Dimitri was flustered, red tinging his features. Byleth crawled back and examined her body. She glided her fingers against her dripping cunt, relishing his performance.

"Shall I help you dress?" He asked. The prince was breathless. Byleth smoothed his hair as tradition, rushing her hand across his dimpling skin with a newfound sense of happiness. She shook her head, slipping into a magenta bustier, hooking it from the front.

"I want to go to the monastery." Her hair cascaded along her back, the color reminiscent of mint leaves. Dimitri swept his eyes in her direction.

"Mn." He drawled, sinking his face into a pillow. Byleth skimmed her fingers towards the center of his spine.

"We should pray before the battle." The prince veered his head back at her words, eyes solemn and grave. He nearly couldn't recognize her own. They reminded him of stone-ground matcha. His childhood memories reshaped, servants flitting about the expanse of the castle, mixing the powder into cups of boiled water for his stepmother and father. Lavender ribbons appeared in his mind. A tortured girl with chocolate pigtails smiled at him.

"You were stressed, weren't you? That's why your hair — " Byleth blinked, lashes fluttering with indifference.

"I don't know what exactly happened. Everything was so dark, and suddenly I was blinded to the light again. This — power burst inside of me." She said, kissing a spot on his shoulder. Dimitri stirred at her gentle touch.

"You cut a rift in the sky." He recalled.

"I suppose I did."

"Perhaps you should visit Hanneman." The old professor did have an understanding of strange, unexplained phenomena. He certainly gave impressive explanations on crests at the very least. It was unspoken, but Byleth knew what had occurred on that mountaintop. She had no interest in consulting with Hanneman. Sothis had merged with her body, giving the child's essence to Byleth, and her strength along with it. The little imp was The Goddess herself, although Byleth suspected as much.

"I would like to go now, when everyone is drifting to their chambers."

"Would you like me to carry you?" He asked. She gave a half-hearted smile, chuckling. He was still sweet.

"No, my prince." Byleth wrapped Dimitri in his day clothes, tugging his armor in place as he equipped his gloves. The walk to the monastery was pleasant, and well-deserved after the rains obscured the sky for so long. The moon emerged on the line of the horizon, illuminating the world in a dark light, a crescent ring rising over their shadows.

Byleth's boots clattered on the lacquered floor of the monastery. Dimitri followed suit, his blue eyes drifting to the stained glass of the windows, starlight making them glow. Their depictions were gorgeous. The Four Saints each had their own window, all dragons. Their colored scales glistened against the many candlewicks lit up in the room. It felt intimate to stand there with her lover in the face of The Goddess, but Byleth knew better than to recite false prayers.

Even if Sothis was linked with her body, The Goddess was there in the remnants of an old castle. She had never left. She reigned over Fódlan. Byleth clasped her hands together, rendering a soft invocation as Dimitri wandered towards the imposing mosaic before them. A depiction of Sothis with feathery wings flew alongside The Four Saints. She had ribbons braided into her hair and a crown of water lilies. She was ethereal in this form, soaring over Seiros, beaming lovingly as her child took flight.

"Are you praying for our safe return?" Dimitri didn't take his eyes off the mosaic, intaking every shade of the palette. The artistry was impeccable. Byleth continued to mouth her prayer, then whispered a response to the prince in front of the altar.

"I'm imploring your wish in the tower to come true." Dimitri twisted his back against the portrait to look upon her face. She was earnest, her eyes forcing him to glide towards her as they pooled with love. Dimitri shuddered on the spot and swathed Byleth as he pulled her against him.

"I love you." He muttered, catching his breath once more. Byleth felt the sudden urge to cry, but she found that all her tears had dried from before. She hadn't begun to confront Edelgard's betrayal like Dimitri did. With all that had happened in the few, short months together, Byleth was unable to bring herself to console Dimitri as she wished. All of her emotions began to fall upon her at once, entrapping her between his steady hands as she melted into his embrace.

They kissed underneath the mosaic, Sothis's gaze directed at the pair as they stood in front of Seiros's beastly form. Byleth allowed herself to be pushed to the brink of the altar. Dimitri showered her in light kisses, assailing to drink the sweetness of her skin as though it was to be his last taste.

"After the battle, I want to bring you to Faerghus." Her eyes shot open, heart thumping like a battering ram. Dimitri stopped to collect his breath. He loomed over her, his wrist pressed against the wall behind her, his voice full of desperation. "Please tell me if you desire anything else." He was urgent in his tone, almost begging her to advise him against it.

Byleth knew what coming to Faerghus would be, what Dimitri's plan would entail. He would ascend the throne with a beautiful coronation, and in order to preserve the Blaiddyd name and bloodline, would be encouraged to take a queen immediately. Byleth wanted to shake her head, to truly give the young prince counsel and ridicule the principle of it all.

She was the lowest of commoners, one step above bandits. She was a mercenary. She had no lineage, no lands, nothing to offer Dimitri in terms of status. She profited off of wars in her profession. How would she be able to prevent skirmishes in an entire kingdom? The responsibilities of even a queen consort would be too much for her. She was The Goddess incarnate. Byleth had a duty to the Church of Seiros because of that.

These thoughts flickered in her mind for some while, urging Byleth to give a frail answer, avoid the subject altogether and hope that the battle would convince Dimitri otherwise. She feared that the prince would taint his reputation if he brought her to court. Illustrious aristocrats would never see to accept her, and she found little fault in that.

"I beg of you, become mine." He whispered.

He stared into her face intensely, boring his eyes against hers in the wish that she would stagger, lean against him as she always did for support. Byleth glanced down in complete dejection. Terror ate at Dimitri when he saw her face. His palm rustled above her head. His throat clenched.

She parted her lips, an apology dripping between the cracks of her voice.

‡

Edelgard's army emerged from the thickets, soldiers clad in heavy metal and crimson capes, all undoubtedly loyal to the Lady of Hresvelg. She had managed to recruit candidates from a number of sources. Those who did not hold a crest rallied to her side, tired of the discrimination that they endured under the nobility's rule. Edelgard promised a new world to them. Loyalists of the Adrestian Empire stayed with her, even after the revelation of the Flame Emperor's identity. Her house members even pledged themselves to her side. Bernadetta, Linhardt, and Ferdinand were some of the familiar faces on the front lines.

It was an intimidating sight for Byleth to witness atop the cliff's edge. Garreg Mach had the numbers to match if they combined the two remaining houses, but Edelgard had proven to be a daunting foe. Rhea stood in solidarity with Byleth, her blood-curdling, green eyes looming on Edelgard's pallid face in the distance. Byleth would protect the academy with her life. Rhea was assured of that. The archbishop smiled, teeth coming to view as she turned.

"Everybody here, young and old, is in your hands." Byleth felt a chill at her words, confused on what would become of Rhea. Byleth tilted her head, the weight nearly too much to carry, but set her palm on the handle of her sword. Rhea's hair ornaments chinked together as she gazed upon the battle. They swung in the breeze, the noise rattling over Rhea's final words.

A glare of emerald light surrounded the archbishop. It elongated her body, splitting her pupils, growing four sets of ripe fangs. Rhea was the dragon in the mosaic, The Immaculate One, and Sothis's daughter. She was Seiros, not some figurehead tasked in maintaining The Goddess's image. All of this information entered Byleth's mind collectively, leaving her to stare up in awe at Rhea's ashen skin and scales. The dragon was able to articulate her thoughts, exhorting Byleth to take command of her units.

It was sudden. The clash of steel that Byleth knew all too well emerged. Edelgard was in the vanguard, her eyes gaping with shock as Rhea swept the ground with large, leathery wings, propelling a dozen foot soldiers into the air. Byleth moved quickly, rushing the battlefield and throwing her relic against a convoy of soldiers.

Regret began to well inside her heart as she scoured the cliff for Dimitri's colors. She hadn't thought that Edelgard would harm the prince for a moment, but Byleth was wrong to assume that it wouldn't be dangerous. Their lives weren't guaranteed, and Byleth understood that only as dragon fire jetted through the cliffside.

Byleth stomped on her heels, attacking the soldiers that targeted her students first. Ingrid spiked her javelin to the ground indiscriminately as her pegasus dodged arrow after arrow. Mercedes was advanced enough to focus on groups, sewing up their bloodied gashes with a flick of her wrist. It took a great amount of energy, however. Byleth continued to survey for her students. Dedue would know where Dimitri was surely, he would stay by the prince's side as his first commander. Byleth looked for the hulking warrior, her eyes rapidly darting across the busy clusters of soldiers.

She heard Rhea wail, her voice booming against the rims of the valley. Edelgard had a vicious smile as demonic beasts ripped into the dragon, cornering Rhea against the lip of a cliff. Edelgard was ruthless, her hair tied in ebony ribbons as they slashed along the current. Garreg Mach was losing its position.

Byleth spotted Dimitri charge behind the heir apparent, his lance pointed towards the underside of her neck. Byleth dashed along the ground. If Dimitri was going to strike her, Edelgard would undoubtedly return a counterattack. Byleth pushed past clashing soldiers. She noticed the edge of the cliff, and scuttled towards it with urgency.

"Dimitri!" She screamed his name at the top of her lungs. The prince reacted to her voice, but not before Edelgard turned to face him. She swung down her axe forcefully, slitting the blade through the right side of his face without mercy. Dimitri slumped in pain, clinging his hand over his eye as he shouted with agony. It wasn't enough to kill him, and he took up his lance again, driving it into Edelgard's shoulder as retribution.

Byleth was just grateful that he was retaliating, moving, breathing. She would tend to the wound, have Mercedes spend weeks on it if possible, all she knew was that Dimitri wasn't allowed to meet his end here. Byleth smiled. Although, her relief soon dissipated once she heard an unfamiliar sound. The ground beneath her was rattling like a tremor.

The cliffside was falling. Rocks tumbled beneath her feet, unbalancing Byleth as she tightened her grip on the hilt of her sword. It was her first reaction, to hold fast upon something, to feel as though she retained control as gravity clung to her and wrenched her from her place.

Cracks in the ground stretched in every direction, breaking apart the layer underneath. Byleth finally disappeared into the darkness. She screamed then. A sound of grief reached the surface as she continued to cascade along the rift.

"No!" Rhea bellowed, her cry shrill as Byleth plunged into the drop of the crevice. Dimitri watched with one eye blind, blood covering his face and hands before Edelgard sunk her axe into his chest. Byleth went under in that moment, comatose as her body absorbed the impact of the fall.

Somewhere in the rivers of time, Byleth slept on a giant's throne, stirring at the sight of him in her dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might not like the ending, but that's the only way we're gonna get to post-timeskip chapter five. Woo! Drop a kudos and write a comment please! Thank you for the unending support!


	5. False Idols

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Currently listening to an EXO-CBX mashup with Ariana Grande while hiding the fact that I write fanfiction from my boyfriend. Here's another pseudo-canon chapter before we get to the goods!

"You have emerged from the depths of sleep with stars and seashells in your hands, and in your eyes, the dark coolness of seas."

— Alexander Matsas

Byleth's hair weaved in the water like seaweed, strands spreading in every direction. Her lashes would flutter as visions of Dimitri encroached her mind, urging her to awake from her divine slumber. She was an ethereal body in the depths of a lake, timeless yet forsaken, and she remained so for many years.

She slept on the throne as Sothis once did, feet naked as she graced holy ground. It was a sanctuary for The Goddess, a place in which Sothis was reborn. The Goddess would never die, not truly, but revert to the form of an infant there in rebirth. It had only been a few centuries until Byleth was born. Sothis reawakened then, eyes shuddering as a sigh drifted from her lips.

Many seasons had long passed as Fódlan fell to war, ripped apart by Edelgard's tyranny, flung into petty skirmishes between rival houses. She fashioned a self-appointed coronation, spinning her hair into braided buns with a cloak of crimson betrayal on her back, and she wept with joy. For her crowning ceremony, Edelgard requested a circlet shaped like spiraling, dragon horns. It would serve as a symbol for her defeated enemy.

Rhea had vanished in the midst of the battle. Her skeleton was never found, neither as a dragon nor human, but she was declared dead by Edelgard's council all the same. Nonetheless, the crown itself was sacrilegious, and the young empress's iron rule soon forced the continent into a state of political upheaval.

Lords tried to command their smallfolk, their armies, their own spouses into obeying their instructions for a coup. Once the peasantry understood Edelgard's intentions, they rallied against their lords and overthrew the current dynasty. Their estates soon fell to ruin, leaving only Edelgard with a strong militia. No one opposed her reign for years. Nothing could begin to contend with the power of the Adrestian Empire.

Dimitri never opened his right eye, and never wanted to again, satisfied in the same blackness that swallowed his departed lover. He swore vengeance on Edelgard, and contented himself with images of her head rotting on a spike in the coming spring.

His hair had grown to his shoulders, rugged and unkempt. He no longer cared about appearances. The once elegant and reputable prince had fallen into a state of deep resentment, biting at hands of sympathy like a feral dog. He simply wanted to kill the silver-haired empress. She was the one who murdered Byleth in his perspective after all.

Byleth's body was healed, however. It was able to survive even that drop from the cliff. The reawakening was inevitable. Sothis conveyed her voice to Byleth's unconscious state of mind with ease now. Whereas, years of previous attempts only led to disappointment.

She twitched in the water, skin beginning to flush with color. The mouth of a river swallowed her into its body. She was rushed downstream for some time before a man took notice. Initially, he thought her to be another carcass of war. Perhaps she was some fledgling of a lord's daughter by the way she wore her clothes. They had been ripped at every seam though, and he took care to fish her out with steady hands.

Sothis's voice rang louder, her tone calm yet insistent. She grew concerned as Byleth remained unresponsive, and decided to yell an insult, impatient as ever. Byleth reawakened at her call. It took moments for her body to process its conditions, only for it to find her lungs filled with the water from the lake.

She choked, splurging out her throat's contents onto the grass, her stomach churning with nausea. The man leapt back from her frame. He mistook her for a ghost. He had thought to at least give her a proper burial, but was now ridden with fears of a supernatural curse. Her eyes darted to him in shock and he swallowed back a scream.

"Are — Are you alright?" He tried to regain himself. She noticed the rims of village houses and a small, stone well. Byleth teetered, light-headed and delicate as she fell into his arms. The villager managed to catch her a second before she hit the ground, but didn't know what to make of the strange woman before him. She moaned, a name pursed on her lips, Dimitri's face emerging once more.

"Do you need our healer?"

"No." She managed.

"Then would you mind telling me who you are?" Byleth gazed up at the villager in confusion, slowly regaining her stance in the meanwhile. Had she been thrown from the cliff and rushed with the current of the river as the battle continued? She coughed, spluttering out another meek answer.

"I'm a professor at Garreg Mach."

"Garreg — That place is in ruins now. Are you sure you didn't hit your head?" He asked. Byleth swept her fingers on her forehead, more confused than ever, and shook her head adamantly.

"No, it's true. I don't understand. This is the year 1180, correct?"

"Not at all. It's 1185." Terror struck at Byleth when she heard his response. He was very straightforward, as though that was nothing more than the truth. Byleth's palms began to quiver. It was only moments ago that she had been on the battlefront. Her body nearly ached from the strain she placed on it. She was in denial. It was impossible for that to be true, but the man before her wasn't lying from what she could tell.

He scratched the tufts of his sideburns with a long drawl. Byleth was against herself. Her panic was as apparent as the brilliant green of her hair. The villager wrapped a comforting hand around her shoulders, edging her closer to the village's forefront.

"You should really be careful. Maybe you can rest here for a little while. There's thieves and bandits around every corner in these woods." He said.

Byleth brushed off his grip and began to stride towards the direction of the river. She would have to see it for herself. Stubbornly, she began to run into branches and thickets alike. She could handle anything, it didn't matter. The villager cried out to her with caution.

"There's a monster that's ripping Adrestian soldiers apart at the monastery!" When Byleth ignored the warning, the man simply clicked his tongue. He had no idea who she was, but anyone marching into the throes of danger was far from sane. She didn't care, picking up her coat as her boots trampled through the forest.

If Adrestian soldiers were on patrol, Edelgard had won the battle. That meant that Dimitri would either be long dead or worse off — in a cell under the gates of Enbarr. Byleth reached the entrance of the academy soon enough. It was a journey back upstream, but Byleth's body craved to move after all those years.

It was nearing dawn when she approached a familiar path.

Her heart plunged as she set her sight on the balcony of the monastery. That was where Rhea had first laid eyes on the beloved professor. It was in pieces, stone crumbled and its structure lost to time. Byleth hurried to advance inside. It was amazing that she was able to recall the secluded quarters and the winding halls all the same. Bodies aligned the steps of the spiral staircase, blood still fresh, and eyes still vibrantly tinted.

The walls were ruined. Everything was only a fragment of its former self, the colorful glass of the windows shattered, the altar thrown to the other end of the hall. All that remained was the large mosaic of Sothis, eyes unchanged, and smile ever fond.

Byleth took heed of the corpses as she ascended the steps, her boots clattering loudly. The sound resonated poorly off the walls because a vast hole had been blown into the monastery's side. Byleth curled her fingers around the pommel of her sword. Her eyes began to flicker with vigilance. She reached the top, entering Rhea's confessional, and saw a shrouded figure in the corner of the room.

A patchy, azure robe covered the man. He had a steel lance in his palm, the blade pointing at the ceiling above, covered in thick grime. Byleth noted the absence of light on his face, his hair loose and obscuring his eyes. She relaxed, her shoulders sloping down. She had feared a demonic beast ventured into the abandoned monastery. It was just a vagabond, and Byleth could stand her ground if need be. She stepped closer to the ghostly presence. He raised his head, his cheek coated in splatters of dry blood.

Byleth immediately came to a standstill. Her legs trembled, hands twitching with a combined sense of happiness and amazement. Dimitri was alive. Of all places, she had never expected to meet him here if the battle truly did cost them the academy. Questions bolted through her mind when she couldn't help but walk towards him.

Why was he here? Did he know that she would reawaken? Most importantly, did he still love her the same? His right eye was concealed with a dark eyepatch, but his expression was unmistakable. Dimitri was shocked, his lone eye running across her enchanting face. She still had those immaculate, bright green eyes. They were like polished sea glass.

She reached out her fingers, hair falling in front of her breasts. Her tresses were much longer now that Byleth saw them for herself. She supposed that was something they had in common with their older selves, but Dimitri appeared disheveled at best. He looked dispirited, eye rearing to the floor.

"I should have known that one day you would be haunting me as well." His voice was gruff, alarming to Byleth's unprepared ears. He was much larger than he was as a boy. Even sitting in a hunched position, she noticed his enormous stature in that state. Byleth moved to brush the hair from his eye. Her fingertips caressed his face gently. He winced at the feeling of her flesh.

"You're alive." He breathed, his pulse beating rapidly and drumming against his throat. He looked at her slender fingers and nearly took them without hesitation. Yet, when he peered deeper into her eyes, he could sense one thing that unnerved him. Those were not the eyes of a stranger. They stared down at him with expectation, with an overfamiliarity that Dimitri detested. They brandished power over him, and for the first time in five years, Dimitri only had thoughts of love for his professor.

Yet, he couldn't stray from the course of vengeance.

The prince chose to stand on his own, ignoring Byleth's warm embrace with a bitter glare. Byleth's smile faded as Dimitri wrapped his palm against the handle of his lance. He pointed it at her, suspicion pooling in his head.

"Is Edelgard too pure to stain her hands with my blood? What is this nonsense?" He scoffed.

"Dimitri?"

"I will kill that woman, I swear it! Just tell me why you're here! Were you nothing more than a spy that day on the battlefield?" The cold metal of his lance tapped against Byleth's cheek, and she whimpered at his harsh words. She didn't know this Dimitri. He was cold to her. He was almost cruel.

When she didn't respond, he growled, throwing down the long spear recklessly. It clattered on the stone, causing Byleth to flinch and tremble in place. He loomed over her like a ferocious beast. He was taller than before, his chest double the width of his former self. His eye glazed over with something that Byleth was unable to recognize. Dimitri pushed her against a wall, and brought his face next to her own.

He slid his tongue over her neck, crushing her jaw between his fingers to keep her from fidgeting. She didn't know what to do. He was heavy, forcing her shoulders back whenever she twisted too much, squeezing her tits with eagerness. It was like Dimitri had been touch-starved in her absence. Byleth attempted to turn her head to the side, but Dimitri merely wrenched it back to face him.

"You'll look at me." He demanded. "I haven't had this for so long." His tone was close to a whisper before a low snarl resonated within his chest. Byleth wondered what he meant by that. Had he taken other women to bed, or was he simply referring to her touch?

"Be gentle, Dimitri." She mewled, but the prince disregarded her plea. He continued to touch her, unveiling her breasts with a harsh tug. They still had the color of pale milk, her pink nipples enticing his growing cock. Dimitri leaned against her breasts, sucking the bud into his mouth enthusiastically, and exhaled a groan. He wanted to rut against her like an animal in heat. Even more so, he wanted to fuck her until she bled. He was so resentful.

Byleth missed young Dimitri's sugary kisses. Although, she found it intoxicating to have this unfamiliar man undress her. Dimitri twirled his tongue around the edges of her nipples, and felt them harden with his ruthless touch. He wasted little time on foreplay, tearing off his bloodied armor, and pinned Byleth's wrists to the wall. It pained him to see her like this. It was as though she hadn't changed, her face still capturing his heart the same way it did when he was a student.

He didn't want to feel relief, however. He wanted to stay angry, angry because he thought she died, angry because she left in the first place. Dimitri crushed her slender wrists in his palms, causing Byleth to stare up in confusion. There she was, the same patient woman that he mourned for three unholy years.

"I won't forgive you." His voice was abrasively unkind.

"Think of what you're saying, Dimitri." He glowered at her with an ill eye. She deserved to be punished for her thoughtlessness. How could she begin to understand what he was feeling? He quickly unwound the laces of his trousers, dexterity only second nature to him. The prince was panting as he did, not bothering to slip off his ironclad gloves. He pushed her against a cold slab of stone. The pads of her fingers recognized the chill. It was familiar to her, reminiscent of their night in the Tower of The Goddess.

He was leaning over her back, but she didn't feel any kind of romantic sentiments come from him. Instead, Dimitri pulled down his black breeches completely. He tugged her shorts away with a strong grip, then began to brush his flaccid cock against the folds of her pussy. Byleth was especially uncomfortable, her body only awake for a few hours, and already on its knees for a man.

It was foolish to think of Dimitri as anyone but her lover, yet Byleth couldn't shake his words away so easily. She missed him dearly, her sweet prince. Byleth wasn't able to imagine the agony he endured after the battle. He must have been lonely, he must have _hated_ her.

"You're not wet." He muttered, gripping her ass roughly. He furrowed his brows. Byleth glanced back, her eyes gorgeous and lips bleeding red. Dimitri was exceptionally annoyed when he saw her doe-eyed gaze. It was empty and dull, a blank expression that haunted his long nights. He lifted his shoulders and gave her a light shove.

"Turn around." His words were sharp, but he said them in a quiet, relaxed tone. The prince curled his fingers in her hair, making sure that with every jerk she would feel the pain burn across her scalp. He wanted to etch his heartache into her very soul. He wondered if she even had one now, or had she given that up in order to survive that damned fall?

He still remembered the smell of his own blood as it drooled across his face. He remembered Byleth sink into the ground then. He remembered when Edelgard buried an axe inside of him. Dimitri suddenly respired, tugging a handful of her hair, and wrapped his fingers around her delicate neck.

He pressed his cock into her, and a sigh of abatement released from his mouth. Byleth nearly convulsed from how fast it entered her, pushing up against her pearl irritatingly, the friction too much to bear. It was displeasurable. Dimitri could only moan. He should have peeled off his shirt, but it was too late. She was taking him so well, her hole almost sucking him in despite the chafing.

Byleth immediately noticed that the prince was much larger in girth. His cock filled out, adjusting to the proportions of his body as a man. Byleth gasped as it continued to plunge into her depth, her chest pounding against the frigid stone. She was aside herself with the realization. She was being fucked by the Prince of Faerghus even now, when he had grown twice his size, when he had turned into an adult.

Her own appearance hadn't made such a drastic change, and perhaps that was what frightened her the most. She felt dirty for what she did with him years before. Wasn't he just a boy in comparison? She soon came to be revolted by her actions, guilt flushing her cheeks. Byleth tried to look back at him, but he wouldn't even allow her that.

"Dimi — Dimitri. I'm so sorry. I'm — "

"You should be." He growled, thrusting his hips quicker as she squirmed underneath. She was at least getting wet now, but she started to sob. Dimitri simply probed his hand into her skin, his fingers still laced across her neck. He was trying to drown her out, cast her off in the sea from where she came. Dimitri wasn't ready for this. Their emotions overwhelmed one another, and the prince only meant to fuck her as a reparation.

He snapped his hips, flush against her ass, and whined when he started to feel the crescendo. Convulsive gasps collected in Byleth's throat. She tried to quiet herself, but Dimitri never dulled the intensity of his thrusts. Byleth noticed something else in that moment. Dimitri lasted longer altogether, his endurance greatly improved. Everything had changed around her, and she didn't know what to do with herself. The sweet and tender prince that loved to suck on lemon rinds and drink tea in the gardens had long disappeared.

Byleth drew back a breath and was determined to take it. She screwed her face into one of resilience. Dimitri noticed the change through his pants of euphoria, pulling her thick mane back. He had no plans of being merciful. He just wanted to see her cry.

"How does it feel being fucked by a prince? Is it just like our academy days?" He snorted loudly. Byleth knew better than to reply, narrowing her eyes against a patch of grass sprouting in the corner of the room. Vines entangled the darkness of the stone. An overgrown and dense forest surrounded them. Dimitri felt a pang of irritation, and wrenched his hand from her throat. He gripped her jaw instead, incessantly beating his cock inside her small frame.

"Stop." She huffed, her nostrils flaring. Byleth's teeth rattled against each other as she swallowed another breath. Dimitri freed her from his forceful grip, but didn't do as she commanded. He continued to grind against her ass, abandoning his thoughts entirely. All that occupied him was the growing need of his cock.

He was grunting, and with a spill, came outside of her. She felt hot drops of cum decorate her back and rear and said nothing in response. Her pussy was stretched apart, its pink folds dripping wetness. Dimitri slicked back the fringes of his hair. He recollected himself quite easily, and tied his breeches like not a single thing of significance had occurred.

"There are some rogues in the woods, nothing more than rats." He said, latching the straps of his pitch-black armor together. Byleth said not a word. She just swept her fingers against the grass stems beside her. Dimitri gathered his cloak with a weary sound.

"Stay here then. It makes no difference to me." He stomped away, the ring of his boots an intolerable noise against the emptiness of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be tying up some loose ends next chapter, so look forward to an in depth conversation between Dimitri and Byleth about what happened on the day of the battle. I might add another chapter as well, not sure yet! Please leave your kudos and a comment regardless!


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